


Santa Surprise

by Fantasorie



Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:36:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasorie/pseuds/Fantasorie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>M's cold Christmas Eve receives some warmth...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this was originally written as a character neutral (meaning no names given to the characters they were just he and she) tidbit as a texting story for a friend as she traveled. I decided to rework it for James/M and added to it. It wound up more explicit as I went lol.
> 
>  
> 
> Too bad we don't all have a Santa like this one ;-).

 

 

 

 

M stared at her Christmas tree and sighed.  Christmas seemed to come so quickly anymore.  Tomorrow was Christmas and she would spend it the same way she had done since the death of her husband…alone.

Every year it was the same thing.  Order a pizza on Christmas Eve, then get a turkey dinner from one of the local restaurants on Christmas day, and spend the whole day watching sappy movies that made her cry.

She sighed as a snowflake landed on the window.  “Perfect.  Just what I need to make it even more miserable,” she grumbled even as the flake was joined by more little fluffs of cold whiteness.

Moving off the sofa, M walked over to the fireplace, deciding that now was as good a time as any to start the fire.  Rubbing her hands together when the job was done, she stayed in front of the fire for a few moments enjoying the warmth it brought to the room.

“Why so glum?” a jolly voice asked from behind her, startling her.

Turning, she gasped in surprise at the man standing just inside her living room.  “Who are you?”

“Who do you think?” he asked and pointed to his outfit.

M frowned and huffed.  “Well,” she drawled.  “Aren’t you a bit early?  After all, am I not supposed to be sleeping when you slide down the chimney?”

His eyes twinkled in merry mirth as he moved to where she stood.  “I decided to come to your place first and a bit early this year.”

M gave him a scathing look.  “And why would you do that?”

Again his eyes twinkled, this time with a hint of desire darkening them.  “Because when I came last year I found you moaning from the pleasure you were giving yourself with that little gift you bought.  I decided then that the next year, I would be the one making you moan and writhe in pleasure.”

Her eyes widening, her cheeks flushing, she swallowed hard.  “You saw me?” she asked, her voice squeaking.

“Oh yes.  Was late delivering toys to children in Bangladesh because of it.”

Shaking her head, she covered her cheeks with her hands.  “Oh my.”

Moving closer, his breath was warm against her face.  “I believe I brought the _toy_ with me this year.”

M swallowed hard and looked down, noticing the bulge in his pants.  “Umm,” she murmured.  “I can’t have a romp with Santa.”

Quickly unbuckling his coat and dropping his pants, he grinned at her, his eyes twinkling once again.  “You can’t?”

“Oh god,” she moaned.

“No, it’s supposed to be, _Oh Santa_.”

“Ugh,” she growled.  “You’re full of yourself aren’t you?” she asked, immediately realizing her mistaken choice of words.

With a gleam in his eye, he pulled her to him, his hands easily divesting her of her clothes, pushing her down to the floor, the Christmas tree looming brightly beside them.  “Actually,” he murmured as he pushed her legs apart, his hand finding her wet and ready.  “I believe it’s you,” he paused, thrusting forward, burying his cock to the hilt.  “that is full of me.”

“Damn!” she hissed as he stretched her, her toes curling in response to the sensation.

“Is that a good damn?” he asked, his movement easy, his lips busy against the soft skin of her breast, nuzzling the underside before licking his way up the valley between the heavy peaks.

Digging her fingers into the plush carpet beneath her, she arched into his mouth, all reasons for not doing this fleeing.  Sweet mistletoe, his mouth was wicked.  “Oooh,” she moaned when his teeth nipped at a taut nipple.

“Like that, do we?” he asked, doing it again, grinning when she arched impossibly higher.  M was putty in his hands and he was loving every minute of it.  Moving up on his knees, he drew out of her causing her to growl.

“What the…?” she stared up at him with bleary, sex hazed eyes.

“Patience,” he murmured before pushing her legs back, bending them at the knees then thrusting forward again, the full force of it making her move against the carpet and grunt.

Her legs trembling, M panted as her mind tried to keep up with what Santa was doing.  Although why she was trying was beyond her.  The man was driving her insane and pounding her as if there were no tomorrow – and she was enjoying every second of it.  “Fuck!” she yelled when he pulled from her again.  “What the hell?”

Grinning at her once again, he pulled something out of the pack he’d dropped beside them.  “A little present,” he whispered, as he watched her eyes widen.  Turning the small vibrator on, he lifted her legs over his shoulders, pushed his cock back inside her then touched the gadget to her swollen clit.

Her scream echoed off the walls of her flat, vibrating the windows, making him chuckle with glee as he thrust hard and fast against her, over and over, her breath coming in gasps as her body was lifted off the floor with each forward movement of his.

Over and over again she came, one orgasm after the other, her eyes blind as she stared out at nothing, clutching at the floor then her breasts in crazy, wild abandonment. 

Moments, minutes, hours, M wasn’t sure, all she knew was that she was drenched with sweat and aching when she opened her eyes to find herself alone, lying naked under the Christmas tree.

“Damn it all!” she cursed as she closed her legs and rolled onto her side, looking to see if her visitor had moved to the sofa behind her.  No one was there.

How the hell had he appeared and disappeared so quickly?

Surely the Santa that had just fucked her senseless was Bond.

It had to be.

She knew no other man with eyes that intense.

But where was he?

“Bond?” she called but received no answer.  “Double-oh seven!” she called again.

“Yes,” Bond cleared his throat as he came into the room, discovering M by the tree.  “Umm, M?  Something you want to tell me?”

M frowned.  “Don’t act as though you don’t know why I’m down here.  Help me the hell up!” she growled and held out her hand.  “And hand me the throw from the sofa.”

Deciding he should grab the throw first, Bond hurried over to the sofa then back to M, the soft blanket held out for her with one hand as he held out the other for her to take.  “M, were you, umm,” he bit his lip, not sure what to think as he caught sight of the toy lying on the floor next to where M had been.

“Out with it, double-oh seven!”  M demanded as she wrapped herself up.

He pointed at the vibrator and frowned at her.  “I could have helped you with your _itch_ if you’d have asked.  It would have been better than that!”

“Really, Bond!”  M gave him a scathing look.  “Don’t pretend it wasn’t you dressed in that Santa suit!”

Bond gave her a suspicious look.  “Santa suit, Ma’am?”

“I’m old but I’m not senile, Bond!”

“Well you are if you think I was here in a Santa suit fucking you senseless when you were obviously using that toy on yourself!”  Bond shouted back, tired of the back and forth.

M narrowed her eyes.  “Drop your trousers then and prove it wasn’t your cock buried in my pussy just mere minutes ago!”

James rolled his eyes even as he did as commanded.  The damnable woman!  His cock was fully erect, the usual response from an argument with his boss.  “There,” he grabbed his cock and pulled it from his trousers.  “Look familiar?”

M bit her lip trying to stifle the moan that was making its way from her throat.  Wholly unsuccessful in her attempt, she scowled up at Bond when she heard his snicker and found him smirking at her.  “Don’t be so smug, Bond.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?  You obviously like what you see.  Would you like me to give you a good fucking?  I’m sure I’d give good ol’ Santa a run for his money.”

Dropping the blanket, M looked up at James with a raised eyebrow.  “If you want this, take it.  I could use another round.”  She narrowed her eyes.  “And I wasn’t fucking myself with that vibrator.  There _was_ someone here dressed as Santa.  If it wasn’t you, then after you’ve proven you’re better than my surprise visitor, we have much to discuss about the security of this place.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered.  Eyes raking over the naked flesh in front of him, Bond felt his cock twitch in response to the luscious curves he’d had countless wet dreams about.  Stripping the rest of his clothes off, he pointed to the sofa.  “Bend over the sofa.  I’ll take you there first.”  He shrugged carelessly.  “Maybe some time tonight we’ll make it to your bed.”

Shrugging her shoulders, M moved to the sofa and positioned herself comfortably, her legs spread and waiting for Bond’s welcomed attack.  She’d come several times while she was being fucked by Santa, but instead of wearing her out, it seemed to make her crave more.  Feeling Bond’s large, warm hands on her hips, she arched her back and pushed back into his thrust.  “Yes!” she hissed. 

The mysterious man that had fucked her as Santa had been big, but Bond was bigger…much bigger. 

“Fuck!” she cried out as she gripped the back of the sofa.

Bond smirked.  “I said I’d give you a good fucking.  Better than your visitor?”

“Don’t be so damned smug!”  M ground out then bucked back against him.  “Harder.  No talking, just fuck me.  If you want to surpass my visitor, you’re going to have to make me come several times before you do.  He had me wild and crazy.”

James just smirked again and began to pound into her harder and faster, a hand slipping around to cup her, his fingers tormenting her clit with light and slow then hard and fast touches.  He could hear M’s throaty moans, the whimpers and low mewling sounds, and it only spurred him on.

Before the night was out, whoever Santa was and the _magic_ he’d brought would be long forgotten, replaced with thoughts of only one man.

Bond.

James Bond.


End file.
